


Desinet Omnipotentis Ira

by DarkHeartInTheSky



Series: Random Drabbles/Requests [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, Coda, Drabble, Episode: s11e10 The Devil Is In The Details, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:30:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHeartInTheSky/pseuds/DarkHeartInTheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amara getting sick after she hurt Castiel was not a coincidence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desinet Omnipotentis Ira

**Author's Note:**

> That episode was so good. Was everyone else as floored by Misha's ability to channel Mark P's Lucifer as I was? He nailed it!

                He thought himself a patient and forgiving deity. Certainly, compared to the Mayan gods that commanded for the hearts of their enemies, daily, He was tame. He thought himself loving, too; He loved His world and His creation so much that He released them, and allowed them to seek out their own truth and their own virtue.

                It was a decision that had been painful, and He still reaped those woes to this day. When He closed His eyes and listened, He heard the crying prayers, His children pleading for His presence, His power. But He couldn’t answer those pleas. He couldn’t reveal Himself. To intervene would be to take away their free will, the single gift He gave them at their birth.

                Castiel would look to the sky and beg. “Where are You?” Castiel would ask. “I’m not sure what I’m doing.” As more time passed, Castiel grew more trepidatious. “I still have faith,” he said once, years ago, but He still stayed hidden.

                He never ignored those prayers. He listened to each and every one and held them dear to His heart. He didn’t answer, but He never ignored, and that was all the difference, even if His children couldn’t understand.

                Then Castiel changed and he said instead, bitter and disappointed, “I wouldn’t count on Him,” and he no longer believed in Him.

                It hurt, and cut deep, that the child He made with stardust and His breath would grow such a callus on his heart towards his father. Castiel didn’t understand; He didn’t intervene because He didn’t care. He didn’t intervene because He cared too much. Every _thing,_ every sentient creature had been designed by His hands, with a mind and spirit of their own, and they had free will.

                But then He had a lapse in judgement. After eons of adhering to His imposed isolation, after eons of never once attempting to violate a creature’s free will, and committing to being forgiving, He snapped.

                Amara attacked Castiel. She called him fearful. She called him _weak._ She violated his flesh and grace and burned into his skin a message of her design. Castiel, who was light, and Amara, who was Darkness, and they intermingled in that one single moment, her Darkness’s corrupting his light.

                That was abominable.

                Castiel was brave and strong, even if he didn’t know it. Amara attacked him and he screamed as he was thrown into the ether, burning and in such pain.

                He snapped. A snap of His fingers and Amara was on the ground, chocking and dizzy, burning tenfold what she had done to Castiel.

                “Don’t you ever touch my son again you wretched, depraved, little _bitch._ ”


End file.
